


Chefs of Steel

by needleyecandy



Series: Silly September [23]
Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, Love to hate to love, M/M, crackish, reality television
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Thor and Loki broke up, it impacted their brothers' lives as well as their own, so when 'Chefs of Steel' announces that the next season will be a different kind of competition, it means a chance at making all four of them very happy. </p><p>As long as Loki doesn't kill anyone first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Hermaline75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75) in the [ThorLokiPromptMeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ThorLokiPromptMeme) collection. 



> I ended up deviating from the prompt some - I hope it satisfies all the same! Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> For the prompt:
> 
> Slightly crackish but maybe not? Thor and Loki end up competing on one of those MasterChef type shows. One of them is a semi-professional trained chef hoping to get a career out of this and the other is just running on good old-fashioned home cooking with a twist and really just after the prize money to pay off some student loans or whatever.
> 
> Naturally, they hate each other to start off with. Who does he think he is coming into an amateur competition? Seriously, how is he still here, he puts potato in EVERYTHING, etc. etc.
> 
> But then - they are forced to work together on some kind of challenge and realise that actually their skills complement each other quite well and having to interact properly, they think maybe he's not so bad and being a professional chef is his dream/getting that money would help him so much...
> 
> Cue the final where instead of getting the knives out, they're each trying to subtly sabotage their own work to let the other win.
> 
> And then smooching, idk.
> 
> (Bonus points if they were actually childhood friends - or even former lovers - to bring additional tension.)

Byleistr looked up from the television when Loki came in. "Hey, Lokes. How's it going?"

Loki sighed as he tossed his keys into the basket. "It's going like shit, just like always. A dining room full of _idiots_ who think that if their meat isn't cooked into shoe leather they're going to catch a parasite. As though they don't deserve a tapeworm for the things they make me do. And don't call me Lokes, _By_."

"Have a seat. I'll get you a beer."

Loki collapsed onto the sofa. "What are you watching?"

"Chefs of Steel. You want a shot in this?" By called from the kitchen.

"Depends what it is."

"Guinness. I just got a bottle of Bushmills, they're good together."

"No Jamesons?"

"Bushmills was on sale."

"You should try fucking yourself with your Bushmills bottle. That's the best use for it. Just bring me my beer."

By chuckled as he poured a shot into one of the glasses he'd just pulled from the freezer and cracked open the Guinness cans. He poured them carefully, trying to keep the head from getting too thick on Loki's because he'd done a semester in Dublin back in college and still acted like it made him an expert.

The ad break was just ending when Byleistr returned with their drinks.

"Thanks," Loki said, taking his.

The host was standing in the middle of the stage, and as the camera zoomed in on him he began reading earnestly off a cue card. He had clearly not been giving any guidelines on French pronunciation.

Loki winced. "Who's this dickweed?"

"Carl Clenson. Host of the Bachelor."

"Why's he doing a cooking show?"

"Viewers identify with him. They're mostly clueless, too."

Loki sighed. "Tell me again why you watch shit like this?"

"It helps me understand you."

"I don't see how. This is staged, overproduced drivel that bears absolutely no semblance to the real work I do. The host can't even say _eau_ , for fuck's sake, and the contestants are the sort who make one thing successfully from Childs' book and think it means they've got talent."

"That's a good book," By said mildly.

"Written specifically for amateurs to demystify the basics of French cuisine. It does a good job of that, yes, but that's all."

By shrugged. "Well, if that's how you feel, then I suppose you're not interested in next season's competition."

"What? Why?"

Byleistr pointed at the screen.

_Next season on Chefs of Steel: Amateur versus Pro_

_We're looking for professionally trained chefs to go knife-to-knife with some passionate new amateurs for a chance to win fifty thousand dollars_

_and a position as the newest sous chef at _La Quotidienne._ _

_-visit chefsofsteel.com for details-_

"Haven't I heard you mention that place before?" By asked, studiously nonchalant.

"That's... anyone who works in that kitchen is set for life."

"I thought it sounded familiar."

Loki took a huge swig of beer and, despite the many water rings in the varnish of By's coffee table, set his glass precisely at the center of a coaster. "I'll be back."

"Cool."

He waited just until the light from Loki's room flooded the hall before pulling his phone out of his pocket. The text he sent was short. _He bit_

Baldr's reply was barely longer. _So did Thor_

 

*****

 

Byleistr had always just sort of assumed that he’d end up looking after his little brother when they got old. True, with those runway model looks, Loki never lacked for a date when he wanted one, but once people saw past the piercing eyes and the cheekbones capable of cutting glass to discover that his personality was no less sharp than the rest of him, they bailed. The record number of times Loki had gone out with the same person had held steady at three for so long that it seemed the record would never break.

And then Thor had come along.

Thor, who made Loki smile like By hadn’t seen since they were little kids. Thor, who looked at Loki like he was the most glorious thing on earth. Thor, who seemed to hear only honey dripping from Loki’s acid tongue.

They were together for four years, four blissful years in which Loki blossomed into what resembled, even from the view of a cynical sibling, a person who was actually vaguely likeable. They moved in together and began to talk about getting married. And then Loki, because he was the biggest idiot By had ever known, had gone and fucked it all up.

Loki had moved into By's spare room, unceremoniously dumping all By's music gear into the bathtub ("because if I put it in the living room you'll never clean it up" - as though it hadn't been 'cleaned up' where it had been before), and quit even the vague pretense of a social life. It was a little better for Baldr, as he owned a house. Thor moved in but he slept in the guest room just long enough to finish the attic before moving up there. It really was more suited to the Addams Family than the Odinson one, but the dinginess and the cobwebs seemed to suit his perpetually foul temper.

It was some consolation – not much, but some – that Baldr was in complete agreement about how much it sucked that this was the one thing Thor hadn't been able to laugh off. Neither of them blamed Thor, but the truth was that all four of them would be happier if only Thor and Loki got back together.

It was Baldr who had come up with the plan. He’d seen the ad a few days earlier, crashed on the couch and waiting for a late night pizza to arrive after a night out with friends. (An invitation that Thor had once again refused in favor of a few hours spent with the punching bag, all while listening to something so drippingly moody that Baldr had left the downstairs radio on out of courtesy to the neighbors.)

_If we get them on that show I know they'll get back together,_ Baldr wrote.

_Only if Loki apologizes,_ By replied, chewing his lip.

_I bet when he sees how Thor still feels he'll do anything to get him back_


	2. Chapter 2

The audition was a breeze, or at least Loki said it was. Though really, By believed it; despite the expensively designed marketing with close-ups of perfectly prepared dishes, the show really was about personalities, not cooking, and Loki had the sort of personality that, for some insane reason, made viewers tune in for more. Throw in his obnoxiously photogenic face and he was a shoe in. The official offer was a mere formality and everyone knew it.

Thor was a shoe in, too. He was basically the casting call come to life; almost surreally handsome, and from one second to the next he could shift seamlessly from charming and boyish to strong and commanding and the next right back again. He had a playful streak and a sexy voice and he was trying out for the side of the amateurs. The only thing people loved more than a gorgeous asshole was a gorgeous underdog.

The official acceptance came via email two weeks later.

"We should celebrate!" said Byleistr.

Loki closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. "I am personally contributing to the decline of civilization as we know it. These reality shows are nothing more than a modern-day version of the panem et circenses, and I am about to aid in the production of both. Furthermore, the other contestants are sure to be completely insufferable and I'm to be cooped up in a hotel with them for two weeks straight."

"Maybe there will be one you like okay."

"That seems highly unlikely."

"There's a bottle of champagne in the fridge," By said, getting up. "You'll like it. It's local, all terroir and everything."

"If it's local then it's sparkling wine, and whatever you think terroir means, it doesn't."

By patted Loki's knee and went to the kitchen. He was texting the moment the door swung shut behind him. _Mine's in_

The reply came while they were sharing the champagne.  _Mine too_

*

There was no trouble getting the time off work; despite the name, Le Cafe Orgueilleux wasn't about to turn down free publicity wherever it might be found, and Loki was sent off with a bottle of champagne (at least it was the real thing, though only an _acceptable_ vintage, he later sniffed to By) and the owner's promise of eight extra vacation hours each time he managed an on-air mention of where he worked. He was sorely tempted to point out that the clientele this show might bring in were not necessarily the sort that the owner wanted, but he managed just enough self-interest to bite his tongue.

Loki's mood grew fouler in the days leading up to his departure. He slammed doors, swore at the weather, and twice kicked the sofa for getting in his way. By kept hugging him and though he swore about that too, he made no attempt to free himself.

"Everything's going to be okay, Loki," he promised. "It's all going to work out."

"I fail to see how."

"I just know it."

*

Loki had an evening flight - By and Baldr had kindly offered to take care of travel plans, 'since you already have so much to do,' thus ensuring that there wouldn't be an encounter at the airport - and Loki spent the day in front of the bathroom mirror critically inspecting his cheekbones.

"Do you think it's true about the camera adding ten pounds?" he asked. "Maybe I should contour."

It was a horrifying thought and By scrambled frantically for an answer. "That's just old cameras, the kind with film. Digital cameras don't do that."

"Oh. Okay. Good."

Loki cooked their dinner, hammering the filets like the blame for everything wrong in his life could be laid squarely upon these two small cuts of meat. He also made beets, a sure sign of his distraction – for all his arrogance (or perhaps because of it) he yearned almost painfully for approval, and for him to have forgotten how much By hated the things, his head was already on the show set.

They left right after dinner for the airport. Loki fidgeted in his seat, his twisting hands threatening to ruin his boarding pass. When they pulled up into the drop-off zone, By was out of the car before Loki could tell him not to. They met at the trunk and By pulled him into a long, tight hug and planted a noisy kiss on his hair, the kind that always made Loki wiggle and yell as a kid.

"You're going to do great, baby brother," Byleistr whispered.

The tension in Loki's muscles softened. "Thanks."

*

The contestants were being kept in what sounded basically like jury duty. No contact with the outside world from the time they reached the hotel until after the entire show had been filmed. It meant that By got a text complaining about the flight (Loki's equivalent of 'got here safely,') and then there was nothing until the first episode aired. It was being billed as a "special television event" which meant a two-week onslaught of live competitions.

By went to Baldr's house to watch the first night. "Let's order crappy pizza," he said.

Baldr laughed in his face. "You live with your incredible chef brother and you want crappy pizza? I'd have thought you'd be going into withdrawal from his cooking by now."

"I am, kinda. But living with Loki, there's no better rebellion than cheap delivery. And your brother's an awesome cook, too. Obviously."

Baldr nodded. "He's good, but he's not..."

"A dick about it?"

"Your words, man."

"My words." By woke his phone and opened seamless. "What do you want on yours? I'm getting pineapple."

"You hate pineapple on pizza."

"I know. But Loki hates it more."


	3. Chapter 3

The pizza arrived just in time for them to sit down with loaded plates on their laps and beer bottles sweating onto the coffee table before the melodramatic theme music began. The host, Carl Clenson, was standing in the middle of the stage with his hands clasped together. When he started talking he waved them around a lot in a way that was evidently supposed to be meaningful.

"Welcome back to the season premiere of Chefs of Steel," he said with almost painful earnestness. "Last season we all witnessed the heartbreaking moment when our contestant Andrew Grislowe revealed he didn't think he was good enough to make it as a professional chef. Well, now we've brought Andrew back for a very special season, where we put amateurs up against pros to see whether all that fancy learning really pays off. Every weeknight for the next two weeks we will have a new challenge for our contestants, and the winner will be going home with a fancy check and a fancy new job. Now let's all meet our contestants, yeah?"

The crowd clapped and cheered like their guest bags had been filled with tequila minis.

"All right! Up first, we've got Todd Henrickson. Come on out and say hello, Todd!"

Todd came out from between the curtains, waving nervously to the audience as he approached Carl, who waited with the mic.

"Now Todd, you're one of our pros, right?"

"That's right, Carl."

"Why don't you tell us where you studied?"

"I was at the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park."

"What's your secret to being a great cook, Todd?"

"Well, there isn't really one secret. You have to start with high-quality ingredients, of course, and sometimes you can let loose but other times you really need to be exacting, and you have to know when-"

"That's really great, Todd! Todd, everybody! Let's all give him a hand."

Carl laughed insincerely as Todd left the stage.

They went through all the pros first. Loki was the last of them to appear. He stalked onto the stage and the buzz of excitement in the crowd was pierced with wolf whistles, which he ignored.

"Hi, Loki!" Carl said, patting him on the back.

"Please don't touch me," Loki said.

"Oh. Right. Your body's a precision machine, eh?"

"Something like that."

"That's great! How about you tell us where you studied."

"I trained at Le Cordon Bleu."

"Was that back home in DC?"

Loki wobbled like his knees were threatening to buckle beneath him, but he held up. "Paris," he answered faintly.

Carl had quit asking for people's secrets after the third chef in a row had tried to give the same answer. "Paris! Wow. I bet that was nice, eh? Viv Lee Franz," he said.

By could see Loki's jaw working. "Yes. They call it the city of lights."

"They do? Well, I guess that was a big deal before we all had flashlights on our phones."

Loki didn't even try that time. He just made a weak choking noise.

Carl turned to the audience. "Loki, everyone!"

The audience cheered obediently as Loki left the stage, walking rather like someone was going to die.

*

Thor was the third amateur to be interviewed. Carl seemed more confident with them, all fake smiles and sincere nods.

"Hi, Thor! Why don't you tell us what brings you to Chefs of Steel."

"I used to be engaged to a trained chef," Thor said. "He tore out my heart and he trampled on it like it was a _bargain brand **hot dog**_."

A chorus of _aww_ s sighed from the audience and he stared out at them.

"So winning this competition would be like your revenge?"

Thor sighed. "He'll never even know. This show is the sort of thing he looks down on. But I'll know, and that's what matters. And I could really use the money. Student loans."

"So where did you learn to cook, Thor?"

"From my mom. She's a really great cook. I do all the cooking now that I live with my brother, he says it's just like hers."

"You live with your brother? A handsome guy like you, I'd have thought you had somebody special in your life the day the last one left."

" _Shit,_ " murmured Baldr.

Thor's attempt at answering was drowned out by the enthusiastic screams of the audience at hearing that Thor was single. By the time the crowd calmed down and he could answer, his face had turned red with fury. His volume increased with each word. "I moved in with my brother after my ex-fiance reached into my chest and _tore my STILL-BEATING **HEART OUT!**_ "

"Fuck, he's still really upset," By said as Carl took a hasty step back.

"You noticed," agreed Baldr.

Thor gave the audience an ingratiating smile as he realized how loudly he'd yelled. "So, um, yeah, I cook and my brother does the dishes, and it works out okay for us. Also, in the backyard there's a garden so we have lots of fresh vegetables."

"A garden, that's great. Do you both take care of it?"

"I water and harvest. Baldr mostly tends to the weeds. He _grabs onto them and **rips them from the earth _like my EX-FIANCE DID **WITH MY HEART**_." **_

Carl blinked. "You really have a lot of ways to describe what he did to your heart."

"Oh. Yeah. I was planning for this interview and I couldn't decide which was the most accurate."

"Wow. Um, that's really great. Let's all give a big hand to Thor, everybody!" said Carl as he turned to the crowd.

The resulting applause was a testament to how very little some people seemed to mind being the rebound partner. The look Thor cast them – unsure, perhaps a little concerned for their emotional stability – had By and Baldr cracking up all the way into the ad break. They didn't worry about Thor's temper. He wouldn't have reacted that way if he weren't still in love.


	4. Chapter 4

"Nine nights. Nine challenges. All our contestants are great cooks, but in the end, only one person can be crowned Steel Chef," Carl announced.

"Wait, I thought it was-" said Baldr just as there was a whisper from off-camera.

"Whoops! I meant Chef of Steel," said Carl. "Wow, America. As you have just witnessed, _anything_ can happen on live television. I hope you're all buckled in, because this is going to be one _wild_ ride."

"Did we make a mistake? What if Loki does kill him?" asked Byleistr.

"Thor'll hold him back."

"Now, let's take a look at the path to becoming... the Steel Chef. Of Steel," Carl said. "Tomorrow night... the contest begins. Each chef will have a solo challenge for the first round, and at the end of the night, our panel of celebrity judges will choose one amateur and one pro to send home."

The camera cut to the judges. Paula Abdul sat in the middle, smiling and waving.

"Is Paula Abdul really qualified to judge a cooking contest?" asked Byleistr.

Baldr shrugged. "She's popular on 'So You Think You Can Dance.'"

"Yeah, but that makes sense. She used to be a professional dancer, of course she's a good judge for that."

"Everybody eats, I guess..."

"Mmm. Yeah. And at least she's famous. People will be paying attention to how she votes. It means she can't do anything too out there. I've never even heard of those others."

"Us Weekly said they were trying to get the big name judges from other shows to try and boost the audience size but they could only afford one really top judge. The one the right trying to look soulful and deep is Harry Connick Jr, and the one on the left is Nicole Kidman's husband."

"What's his name?"

Baldr shrugged.

"The night after that will be the first of our very special team events," Carl continued. "Then it's back to solo competition for a night, then it's back to pairs."

"They're calling a pair a team?" Baldr said.

"Anything can happen on live TV," answered Byleistr, drily.

Baldr snorted.

"And it's going to continue on, just like that, solo, team, solo, team, until we get to our final night. One skilled pro and one very talented amateur will face off, and at the end of the night, one of them will be crowned Iron Chef."

"Now he can't even remember which metal," said By.

"Not surprised."

"Nope, me either."

"Stay tuned, America. After a few brief words from our sponsors, we'll be right back with you to draw from this very hat-" Carl held up an oversized fedora, "-nine cards with the themes for our upcoming challenges. Remember, this is _live television._ Anything can happen when we return with more Chef of Steel!"

"They must have found his cue cards," said Baldr as the music from the first ad began. It showed a woman in a gray hoodie eating yogurt. Then there was an ad showing two different tampons soaking up blue water, and finally one with a woman eating salad and laughing.

Carl was busy trying to look earnest when the show returned. It seemed painful. "This is where things get serious, everyone. It's all been fun and games up to now, but it's time to choose our themes. I am now going to ask the assistance of our judges in drawing the cards."

He walked over to the judge's table, stopping at one end and holding out the hat.

Harry Connick Jr reached in and pulled out a card. "One color," he read.

Carl turned to the camera. "And so our contest will begin with each contestant selecting a single color, and making a meal using only that color." He flared his eyes very wide and nodded like it was meaningful.

"State Fair," read Paula Abdul when it was her turn.

"Our first team competition has a State Fair theme. The contestants will make foods that you might find at a state fair, or inspired by the feeling of a state fair. I remember that feeling from childhood, like it was the most exciting and wondrous place in all the world."

"Is he really going to explain them all?" asked Baldr.

Byleistr looked at the clock. "There's still twenty minutes to kill."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

Nicole Kidman's husband reached in. "Root to stem," he said.

And so it went on with Carl repeating each theme until the lineup was complete: raw, crepes ("is that really a theme?" asked Baldr. "That's already a food,"), tailgating, paleo ("Loki's going to hate that one," By said), and the last pair competition would be chocolate. The final competition, the one between the last pro and the last amateur, would be movie inspired, the movie chosen by the winner of a coin toss.

"It's got to be them, it's just got to," Baldr said.

"It will be as long as my brother doesn't murder anyone," said By.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm going to kill them," Loki said, watching the tv in his bedroom. The competition and filming were taking place in the ballroom of the hotel, so each contestant was taken down just long enough to get their brief interview before being ushered back up to their rooms. He'd arrived back in time to see the last amateur, Tess, finishing her interview by explaining that her secret for being an 'amazeballs' ( _Jesusfuck,_ Loki muttered) cook was to always use a little more vanilla extract than the recipe called for. Carl seemed delighted by her answer.

Loki didn't think that he'd be able to sleep that night, but he did. _The sleep of the just,_ he decided, feeling a surge of righteousness as he thought of himself spreading basic tenets of actual food to the rest of the country. They were broadcasting live. It meant he could say whatever he wanted about things like boxed macaroni and cheese and no one could stop him.

They were kept in a jury duty-like lockdown, allowed to use the ballroom to mingle with the other contestants but forbidden from contacting the outside world. He stayed in his room, planning his first day's recipe. One color. He already knew what the others – or most of them, anyway – would do. Red was an attention-grabber on the plate just as much as it was elsewhere in life, and his competition would view this as an opportunity for flamboyance.

Loki chose white.

They had to submit their grocery lists by three that afternoon. His was in by one. Then there was nothing to do but wait and do enough push-ups to balance out what he would be eating that night. He went from exercise to a bubble bath, figuring he may as well go into this relaxed. After all, he had no reason to be otherwise.

He had just finished blow-drying his hair when the room phone rang.

"Yes?"

"Loki?" It was that nervous-sounding intern whose name he hadn't been bothered to learn.

"Yes."

"We're asking everyone to assemble in the great hall in half an hour to get the ingredient check done before the show starts."

"Very well."

He hung up. Half an hour was plenty of time to see to a few things – the smallest daub of concealer, the faintest hint of eyeliner, just at the top lashes, where it wouldn't be noticed but would enhance all the same – before dressing and leaving his room. The door shut behind him with a satisfying click and his footfalls were silent on the plush carpet. Everything was completely silent save for the distant clatter of an ice machine.

He turned the corner to the elevators and his heart stopped.

Thor looked up and met his eyes. " _Fuck,_ " Thor yelled, and he smashed through the door to the stairwell. Loki could hear him continuing to swear at the top of his lungs as he descended, the echoes blurring into a perfect storm of profanity. 

Loki himself was giving serious consideration to returning to his room that instant to gather his bags and fly home to kill his brother. There was really only one problem with that plan. The prize. He wanted it and he deserved it. He knew that, but he still had to go win it. And he would have to be around _Thor_ as he did it. The ding of the elevator was far too cheerful as the doors slid open. At least nine flights down was more than long enough for him to kick a bunch of dents into the gleaming brass panels and to tear one section of railing from the wall, as well as managing to shatter the plastic on four of the number buttons with his fist.

The contestants were all milling about in the waiting area while the intern made the rounds with her clipboard, whispering with people and scribbling things down. Thor leaned against the far wall, his face stony and eyes fixed firmly ahead on nothing. Once the intern had spoken with everyone and handed over her notes to someone in more expensive clothes, they were let into the hall. Each cooking station had a name on the front. Amateurs were all lined up in the front row, and – oh, joy of joys – Loki was directly behind Thor. It was better than the other way round, at least. This way Loki could glare at the back of his head. Maybe if he glared hard enough it would swell up and explode.

The intern went from station to station as they all focused on prep - all but Loki, anyway, who was busy glaring - making sure that they had been given all their proper ingredients. When she got to him, Loki made a huff of annoyance and bent to look in his small refrigerator.

"Yes, yes, it's all here," he snapped her.

She squeaked and moved on to Thor. A moment later both of them turned to look at him, her anxious, him reproachful. As though he had any right anymore to tell Loki to be nice.

"We're on in five!" someone shouted.

The minutes counted down quickly while everyone busied themselves with their stations, tidying and organizing to their preference. Loki did his own and he most definitely did _not_ watch Thor doing his.

The countdown started. A huge LED clock already showed them the time remaining before they needed to plate. The camera panned across them before zooming in on the idiot host. Loki tried to look patient until they heard their cue to begin.

"...to see who will win the title Chef of Steel!"

Loki picked up his knife and thrust it into the heart of his cauliflower.

The cooking did not go well. The food went well, because Loki was cooking it and so of course it did, but the practice of it, that generally offered him a foreign but pleasant sense of tranquility, did not satisfy tonight. Not that there was any doubt who was to blame. "Witless oaf," he muttered into his bechamel.

"Thor! You're the first to plate for our judges tonight," said Carl.

"That's great, I'm really excited," Thor snarled. He was still cranky because he was the sort of person who held on to immature grudges.

"And wow, look at that! I see you chose-"

"black," Loki whispered.

The food was plated and presented to the judges. Loki reminded himself not to glare at them as they gushed over it, though it was difficult.

"You know, I never think of risotto as being peppery, but it really works with this!" Paula Abdul said.

Loki stared daggers at her. 

"I agree. This is a truly creative dish," said Nicole Kidman's husband.

"Have you recorded your scores?" Carl asked them, and they nodded. "How about you, Harry? What do you think?"

"I love it. I'd love to know what makes it black," he answered.

"Oh, that's the squid ink," Thor said.

The judges turned pale, but the 10s were already flashing on the scoreboard.

The rest of the amateurs were judged next, none doing so well as Thor, and then it was Loki's turn.

"Wow, all white. You should be buddies with Thor here," said Carl.

Loki managed a smile and Carl took a step back.

"Here you go," Loki said, holding out the plate.

The judges loved it.

"It looks like it would be bland, just all white like that, but it's so good!" Paula commented.

"Can I ask what it is before we score it?" asked Harry.

It hardly seemed fair to be the first one asked this, but Loki didn't want to get on their bad side on the first night.

"Weisswurst maultaschen mit blumenkohl-crème."

"That sounds like German," said Harry.

"It just sounds that way. It's French," Loki lied.

The judges looked impressed.

At the end of the night, he and Thor were the only contestants with perfect tens.


	6. Chapter 6

Todd and Tess were the first ones sent home. Tess was the only one, other than Loki and Thor, to do a color other than red. She'd chosen green, which Loki had briefly thought pleasant until she explained to the judges that she was very into nature and wanted to express her feelings through her art.

He held his breath as the drawings for the next day's pairs were done, and didn't let it out until Carl announced that Thor would be working with Megumi. His own partner didn't really matter; as long as it wasn't Thor, he didn't care.

As soon as the filming was over, the new partners made beelines towards each other to begin their planning for the next day. Anita got to Loki's area before he could leave, and Loki was irked to see Megumi joining Thor at his. They were too near to avoid overhearing each other's conversation and he didn't appreciate being distracted by-

"Shall we go discuss this somewhere else, Megumi? It seems really stuffy in here," Thor said loudly. Childish of him. Typical. Not that Loki could have expected any better.

 

Anita had grown up in Iowa which was good, because Loki had made a careful point of avoiding State Fairs and he didn't know what the prompt would entail. He just had horrific visions of fried things on sticks. "Surely that's a joke," he told her.

"Nope," she said.

In the end, they agreed that she would plan the menu ("we've got one of the biggest fairs and more fried food than any other state. Someone did a study a few years ago, so I know what I'm talking about,") he would execute the raw materials, and she would do the frying.

They won handily. Harry Connick Jr seemed particularly enamored with their deep-fried butter. "It's the best I've ever had!" he exclaimed.

"We used cultured butter. It's European," Loki explained.

The judges swooned and Loki had his second set of tens.

Loki was even happier when Paula Abdul objected to the fact that Thor's deep-fried Snickers made her sneeze, meaning that Thor walked away with a nine-point-seven for the day.

Loki spent a good portion of the next day doing sit-ups and jumping jacks to make up for the previous night's greasy food. He was quite sure Thor would have either brought a set of weights from home or bribed room service to sneak him some from the hotel gym and there was no way he was going to let himself bloat while Thor remained obnoxiously perfect.

That night they were working by themselves again. The challenge (the first one Loki considered really interesting, and thus worthy of his efforts) was to make use of an entire plant, from its roots to its greens.

The selection of the plant was crucial. He would have used spring garlic, if only it were in season. Leeks were always reliable, if not particularly exciting. Beets offered the most creative potential, but they tended to be divisive. Then again, he'd gotten this far in his career doing what he wanted.

Beets it was.

The competitors entered from stage right, filing past the judge's table on their way to their stations.

"Man, I hope nobody picked beets. I hate those things," Nicole Kidman's husband whispered to Paula Abdul just as Loki went by.

Loki did not look around as he cooked. He happened to glance up occasionally, a natural reaction to clattering pans. That was all.

That was how he knew Thor had chosen leeks.

"I have to say, I don't think of leeks as very exciting, but I really love what you did with them," gushed Harry Connick Jr.

"Thank you," Thor said humbly (ha!) from his station. Loki tried not to glare at the back of his head when it was announced that he had three tens.

"I never thought I'd like anything with beets, but you really pulled it off," said Nicole Kidman's husband. Loki beamed at him. "...of course, I'm still going to get creeped out tomorrow when I take a dump, so I have to take off one star for that."

Two tens and a nine put Loki's three-day average neck-and-neck with Thor's. Thor turned and smirked. He _smirked._

It was war.

 

The next day went far more to Loki's satisfaction – _raw_ was hardly Thor's forté (not that it was Loki's, either, but he was a professional, and was prepared for any special diet that might walk into the dining room), and he and Wynona got an average of eight-point-seven, while Loki and Gita got a nine-point-three.

The real shakeup came when Wynona was sent home at the end of the show. Even though Thor remained, it hardly reflected well on him for his partner to be the one dismissed. Sadly, it did not reflect badly enough for him to follow.

The only event of note the next night was that Andrew was sent home and Carl made a really big, long-winded deal about it, all "Gosh, America, this is a somber moment for us all, to see our returning friend dismissed from the show," and they even played a stupid video montage of _special moments with Andrew,_ ending with the bit last year where he'd said he was afraid he couldn't measure up to a professional (Loki snorted, and Thor turned to scowl) before they would let him leave the stage.

The next night Loki was again forced to cook plebian food, though this time it was of a more truck-oriented sort. The producers even brought out fake tailgates to decorate the front of each cooking station. Carl wore a football jersey and talked swooningly about his favorite memories of _Game Day._

Thor found no more opportunities for smirking, and by the eighth night, Loki was a full point ahead.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how well [mole](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mole_sauce) is known outside North America - when the characters talk about it, they're referring to a savory spicy chocolate sauce from Mexico. Not the animal. Also, it's two syllables, so it sounds different enough that most people wouldn't confuse them. No sensible person, anyway...

The eighth night – the seventh contest – was when the pressure really began to build. Loki, Megumi, and Darren were the only pros left, with Thor, Bao and Maria as the only amateurs. Before the filming began, Maria went to Thor's and Bao's stations to shake their hands and congratulate them. She had done impressively well with the challenges up to that point, but she knew as well as everyone that Paleo was hardly the province of someone who was best at cooking the recipes her Nonna had brought from the old country. Megumi, though, having trained in LA with all their freak-coast diets, was (Loki hated to admit) the strongest among them for this challenge. And Darren was the executive chef at the nation's only barbeque place with two Michelin stars. He was a cook who knew meat. But Loki knew meat, too. And he knew something Darren didn't.

French.

"Poitrine de Poulet Garni au Pesto et Abricots," he said smoothly as the plates were set before the judges.

Megumi, as expected, took the top score that night, but Loki was a fraction of a point behind. Darren did well, too, but someone had to go.

The ninth night was the last pair competition.

 _Bao, Bao, Bao,_ Loki prayed silently as Carl reached into the hat to draw the pairings.

"So, tomorrow's dueling duos, cooking with chocolate - the food of love..." - and here he winked at the camera - "...will be Bao and Megumi against Loki and Thor!"

_Shit._

Carl clearly was expecting the theme song to start up, and when it did not, he turned about, dazed, until he caught the eye of the director, who was making a "string it out" gesture.

"Well, America! It looks like we've still got some time to fill. Let's talk to Thor, he's handsome! So, Thor, in your initial interview, you told us that your secret to being a great cook is to use black pepper. Can you tell us more about that?"

 _Can he ever,_ Loki scowled to himself.

"Oh, sure! I learned all about it from my mom, who is the best cook ever and uses it in everything. Black pepper just has so many uses that people don't even think about. It compliments savory foods, it adds excitement to sweets, and you can even use it for all sorts of things outside your food. Like, did you know if you put it in your laundry it helps keep your colors bright?"

Loki knew it. He'd spent a year smelling faintly of pepper. He'd actually thought it was cute.

"Really? That's amazing. Now let's hear from Megumi about what it's like-"

"And you can also use it as a stopgap measure when your car radiator is leaking, until you can get to the mechanic. Pour in a little jar of pepper, seals it right up. Of course, you could also use paprika," he said, starting to laugh, "but why would you?"

Carl was beginning to look panicked. "Yeah, I mean-"

"Also, pests hate it! Sprinkle it around your plants for a great organic pest repellent. You can use it in the kitchen to keep ants out, too."

"Everybody hates ants," Carl managed. He was beginning to sweat. The director had left off gesticulating frantically and begun pantomiming Carl's imminent death.

"...and we're off," interrupted an intern while Thor was in the middle of listing medical conditions that pepper could cure.

The moment the camera was cut, Thor stiffened. He turned and approached Loki's station.

"Loki," he said cooly.

"Thor," replied Loki icily.

"Shall we begin our plans for tomorrow?"

"Just remember that I was ribboned at the academy for my hot chocolate. A _drink_ , Thor. They don't ribbon people for drinks. Ever. It's unheard of."

"Too bad we're competing in the category of _food_ , then."

Loki took a breath. "Come to my room in half an hour. It is clear that I need a glass of wine before I can deal with you and your-"

"There is nothing wrong with my love of pepper!" Thor interrupted. "It's delicious and complements a wide array of flavor profiles."

"Forty-five minutes," Loki said flatly before turning on his heel and stalking off the set.

Just to be safe, he had two glasses of wine, which he drank sitting in a dark room and seething.

A terse knock sounded and Loki got up to let Thor in. From the flush in his cheeks (for all Loki's pallor and Thor's hearty glow, it was Thor who turned pink from alcohol. Once, Loki had found it charming) he'd had at least as much.

"All right. I don't like you, and you don't like me, so let's just get this over with and go back to ignoring one another," Thor said before Loki could speak.

It would not have been half so annoying were it not what Loki had intended to say, almost verbatim. "Agreed," he managed through gritted teeth. "I think it is clear, considering the challenge and your _impediment_ that-"

"It is not an impediment! I just like pepper!" Thor exploded.

"That our choice is between mole, ribs, or Gascon beef stew," Loki finished calmly.

"Ribs would be tacky, with Darren getting sent home," Thor grumbled.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Thor, don't sulk. And the point of this is to _cook_ , not to be classy."

"I'm not sure the judges know that, though."

It made Loki pause. "I suppose you're right. So it's mole or stew."

Thor was almost certain to say mole. It would do at least a little bit towards making up for all the things Loki had had to deal with - the right choice was clearly the stew, as the squid ink had trained the judges to be suspicious of Thor's ingredient selection, and Loki wasn't entirely convinced that they would recognize the difference between the sauce and the burrowing animal. Then Loki would have to explain to Thor why he was wrong and get to watch Thor's face redden with frustration. After everything he'd been through, Loki deserved it.

"I think we'd better make the stew. I don't think we can trust the judges to know we're not feeding them rodents, and they like it when you speak French."

"You're right," Loki said before he could think.

"I know," Thor answered. Then he smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious pepper claims courtesy of [this site.](http://thesecretyumiverse.wonderhowto.com/how-to/7-great-things-black-pepper-can-be-used-for-besides-cooking-0148747/)


	8. Chapter 8

All that mattered was winning. Loki _deserved_ that position at La Quotidienne and no one, not even Thor, was going to stop him. Especially Thor. Maybe it wasn't so bad that they were being paired, now that he had some time to think about it. Give Thor one more taste of what he could have had, if only. They used to work so well together, standing side by side to prepare their meals, arms and hands reaching and crossing as though controlled by a single mind. Of course Loki was totally over him, but it might do Thor some good. Teach him to be more appreciative when the next person entered his life. Which was clearly a long ways away, because he was _clearly_ still hung up on Loki.

He passed the day in the bathtub, making his way through a series of bath bombs intended to make it feel like he was in a hot tub even though they never really worked that way. He kept his hands out of the water so they wouldn't look pruney when he set to work and used his deep conditioner so his hair would be extra glossy under the lights. Thor's stupid hair always caught the light and glowed and Loki's days of admiring it were _over_. It was his time to shine, after all. He was going to win.

The knock on the door came earlier than expected and he answered the door in his bathrobe. The intern squeaked. "The final contestants are invited to a toast on set half an hour before we start," she said, staring fixedly at the ceiling.

 _Americans are such prudes_ , he thought to himself as he tied his belt. "Thank you. I will be ready."

It wouldn't have been so awkward if only Thor could have managed to understand that Bao and Megumi wanted to talk to _Loki_. Thor kept trying to make conversation with them even though they were talking with Loki about thing that were much more interesting than whatever it was Thor wanted to talk about. They did try to be nice, Loki had to give them that; when Thor started talking to them, they would actually turn and answer him as though they cared. Loki never let them do it for long, though. He though was made of sterner stuff and was not willing to watch them sacrifice themselves socially, not when he was about to destroy them culinarily.

Carl came over to them with that plastic smile already pasted on. "All right, America, it's time to get to your stations!"

"Are we on?" Thor asked, looking around at the cameras.

"Nah, I just say _America_ whenever I talk to groups. Keeps me in the habit."

"Oh. Okay."

The pairs were assigned, as always, to the amateurs' stations, closer to the audience. Loki set out the ingredient list at one side of the counter and began rummaging through the poorly arranged fridge.

"No amounts?"

Loki glanced over. "This is an art," he said.

Thor sighed. "Fine. I'll start the bacon?"

"I'll do the beef."

They both set to their tasks, ignoring the heat of the lights on them, intent on their work. Thor chopped the bacon rather haphazardly, but he had it in the skillet before Loki managed to think of the perfect comment. The beef was cut to precision.

It was not long before the bacon came out and the beef went in. Loki had intended to continue with it, searing the sides, but Thor was giving him that same stupid hopeful look that used to make him melt. "What?" he snapped.

"Next is onions..."

"Oh. Fine, you do this."

Loki handed Thor the spatula and set to chopping the onion. It was a strong one, and even though he was at the other end of the station Thor's eyes were watering. Loki used to make Thor leave the room when he did onions. Loki could never bear to see him in tears, even if it was just from the sulfur in the air.

The beef came out, the vegetables went in, and Loki made the bouquet garni while Thor reduced the armagnac. "Do you still have our rosemary plant?" Loki asked as he tied the little bundle.

Thor's eyes were still red from the onions, and it only made their blue that much brighter. "Yeah. It's getting too big. Rangy. I don't prune it enough."

The stock went in, followed by the herbs and beef. 

"You've been mentioning Orgueilleux a lot. Did Gerard bribe you?"

Loki laughed softly. "Eight hours vacation every time I say the name."

"Wow, you must be up to..."

"Enough for a month in Paris."

The words were out of his mouth before he _thought_ , and guilt surged through him as he watched Thor react.

"Who with?"

"I'm not actually... no one."

"Me, either."

Loki had almost managed to forget how much it had hurt.

The beef simmered untended.

"Five minutes," Thor said. "We'd better finish."

"You want to do the chocolate?" Loki said, hoping Thor would agree.

"I'd rather do the seasoning."

 _Shit_. "It has to melt fast. You've always shaved chocolate better than I do."

"You don't want me to do the seasoning."

"Thor, it's not that. It's just-"

And then it wasn't about the stew anymore.

"I looked up to you! You were so good and I just wanted you to think I was good too."

"You were! You are! But-"

"You complained about my pepper! I got that from my mom."

Loki's answer was hissed. "I _suggested_ you expand your repertoire! You're good, Thor, you're _so_ good, and if you stopped holding yourself back with your over reliance on a single spice, you could be _great_."

"Is that why you did what you did?"

"You put pepper in the chocolate mousse! I can see cinnamon, or orange zest or lavender, or even _cayenne_ pepper. But not black. I just couldn't bear to keep watching you limit yourself like that."

"You spat it on the floor."

"Fine, I couldn't bear to watch you limit yourself _and_ I couldn't bear to eat it. It had so much pepper, darl-" He broke off, but it was too late.

Thor's eyes looked wet again. "It was good otherwise? Besides the pepper?" he asked lowly.

Loki sighed. "It was brilliant."

 

Bao and Megumi made mole. Neither the pronunciation nor the fact that it was with chicken – no rodents anywhere - mattered to the judges. The final contest was Thor versus Loki. And Loki wasn't sure anymore which one of them he wanted to win.


	9. Chapter 9

Thor won the coin toss and Carl shoved the microphone in his face to hear what the theme movie would be for the final night's competition. "No question, Carl. It's got to be Like Water for Chocolate."

Had he chosen anything else, Loki might still have tried.

 

***

 

_Loki was smiling even before Thor's nameflashed up on his phone. They'd spent an hour kissing on their date last night and he still wasn't over it. "Hello?"_

_"Hi, Loki. Are you free tonight? I'd really like to see you."_

_"I have to work tonight. Otherwise," he said, hoping Thor could hear in his voice how much he wished he could._

_"Come over after."_

_"I won't be off until at least one."_

_"That's okay. I'll wait up."_

_Through a combination of bribes and threats Loki managed to leave at twelve forty-five. A heavy storm had blown in and he had to drive slowly, leaning forwards to see through the rain pouring down his windshield. His headlights caught so many raindrops he could barely see, and he swore at the miserable pace he was forced to keep. At least Thor's building had sheltered parking._

_Thor was barefoot when he arrived, wearing his hair loose around his face and clothes that looked just the right amount of worn. "You made it. Come in," he said, and Loki followed him into the living room. "Want to watch a movie?"_

_"Sure."_

_He sat down on the sofa and Thor fiddled with a cable before hitting the space bar on his laptop and sitting down beside him. COMO AGUA PARA CHOCOLATE appeared on the television screen._

_"Have you seen this before?"_

_Loki shook his head. "I've heard of it, though."_

_"I think you'll like it. The title is a reference to hot chocolate - in Mexico they make it with almost-boiling water, instead of milk, at least sometimes - and since you told me about your ribbon, I thought maybe... you know. I thought you'd like it."_

_They were halfway through when the storm knocked the power out, the battered television set going black with a fading whine. Thor just laughed. "Lucky it's on my hard drive." He disconnected the laptop and moved it to the coffee table. With such a small screen, they had to sit closer. Thor's body radiated heat. By the end, when Tita ate the matches so she could be with Pedro, heat was all Loki could feel._

_The power was still out when it ended and Thor got up to light some candles. He kept the box of matches in his hand as he sat back down. He took one out and slowly, slowly, began to drag it along Loki's bottom lip._

 

***

 

Loki clattered about his station, making noise and trying to keep his hands busy enough that the camera wouldn't catch how they shook. He chopped some things and fried others with no concern for taste or texture. When the _five minutes_ light started to flash, he put the kettle on. Thor was busy at his station as well, with lots of noise and bustle.

"Aaaaaaaaand... time!" cried Carl. "Now it's the moment we've all been waiting for, when our two final contestants bring out their most impressive work yet to try to win over our judges. Who will go home with the prize money and a position in the country's most prestigious kitchen? Contestants, please come forward."

As the loser of the coin toss, Loki went first. He poured carefully, filling three mugs and placing them on the tray to send up to the judges' table.

"Scalding water," he told them. "It's an exercise in simplicity."

They stared at their mugs. "Would you be offended if we don't actually drink it right now?" asked Paula Abdul.

"Hot things mess with my crowns," added Harry Connick Jr.

"Of course not. The art is in the idea." Loki stepped aside, making way for Thor to approach. No matter what he had made, no matter how much pepper he had used, there was no way he could lose now.

But when Thor stepped forward he had no food at all. "Matches. It's..." He glanced at Loki. "An exercise in understanding."

"Well. That's certainly different," Carl said, blinking rapidly. He shook his head hard, as if to clear it, and looked up at the cameras with his fake smile back in place. "And now, America, it's time for the judges to make their final decision! Who is going to walk away tonight as the newest Chef of Steel?"

"Ummm... at least if we let the water sit a while, we can drink it," offered Harry Connick Jr.

"Yeah. I guess Loki wins, unless you mind, Keith?" Paula Abdul said.

He just shrugged.

Carl took Loki's arm and drew him forwards even as Loki was shaking his head _no_ and trying to pull away. "Wait," Loki said, "stop, wait, that wasn't supposed to-"

" **Shut up** ," hissed Carl. "I've put up with you for two weeks and now you are going to smile and look happy or I will stick a fucking stiletto through your ribs on national tv, so help me God."

Loki glanced back at Thor and found him smiling and nodding. The theme music struck up, and the audience rose to their feet because the flashing light told them to, and then someone yelled _That's a wrap!_ and the crew started taking apart the set. Loki stood, bewildered, as Carl stalked away, calling for a double vodka.

"I guess that's it, then," Thor said behind him.

He turned. "Yeah. I guess so."

They were halfway to the elevators when they heard the intern calling Thor's name.

"Thor! I just got a call from Alain Guillaume. The executive chef at La Quotidienne," she panted as she caught up to them.

"Yeah?" said Thor.

"He's opening a new restaurant. He's keeping La Q as his pure, classic French place, or something like that, anyway, and the new one is going to be for, like, experimental stuff. He loved what you did with the matches and he wants you for the sous chef position there."

Thor blinked. "Are they in the same city?"

"Yeah, he's going to be executive at both. Two blocks apart."

"Tell him he'll take it," Loki said.

She looked between them nervously. "Tell him I'll take it," Thor said.

They didn't speak in the elevator among the other people riding up. It stopped silently and the doors slid open to reveal the huge foyer window streaked with rain. Even with the bright hall lights the lightning still flashed off the gold-painted wallpaper. The elevator closed and left them alone.

"It's storming," Thor said.

Loki turned to him and before he could speak he was in Thor's arms. "Scalding water," Thor said, laughing, and then nothing more needed to be said at all.

*****

"I knew it would work," sighed Byleistr happily.

Baldr picked up the remote and turned off the set before turning to him. "Yeah. I got so used to having company, though. I'm going to be lonely when Thor moves out."

By smiled. "Maybe you won't be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all the awesome feedback, everyone! Silly September will continue tomorrow with a visit to Asgard in which a young Thor and Loki get themselves into a scrape.


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